Markus lifted his head, with a questioning air, so earnest that the professor held his peace.
"With whom rests the decision of our fate?" asked Markus. Then, pointing with his finger: "Do you consider yourself the one to decide?"
Both of the learned ones were silent, being impressed for the moment. Markus continued:
"Why do not you now reply? And would you have decided otherwise had I not been what you term impertinent?"
Here Dr. Cijfer interposed:
"No, no, Mijnheer, you mistake. But it is not nice of you to offend a learned man like the professor here. We are performing a scientific task. You impress us as being a person of refinement and advancement, aside from the question of your being ill or not. For all that, it behooves you to have respect for science, and for those who are devoting all their efforts and even their lives to its development."
"Do you know," asked Bommeldoos, in a voice now near to breaking, "do you know what the man whom you have scoffed at as opinionated, stupid, and a ranter—what that man has written and accomplished?"
Then Markus's stern features relaxed, assuming a softer, more companionable expression, and he took a chair and sat down close beside his two examiners.
"Look," said he, showing both of his open palms, "your naked sensibilities protrude on all sides—from under the cloak of your wisdom. How otherwise could I have touched you?"
"Your wisdom—so much greater—does not, however, make you invulnerable to our opinion and stupidity," said Professor Bommeldoos, still tartly, indeed, but yet with far more courtesy.